Light A Candle
by Random One-Shot
Summary: Mala-Shea has been woken from her slumber. However, such an act does not go unnoticed and Drakan has no shortage of evil. Rynn and Arokh gather Surdana's strength to weather one last storm and in all corners of the land, people dream of white dragons.
1. Rynn & Arokh

_I don't own Drakan. Does anything else need to be said? On with the story!_

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Light A Candle

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A Drakan fan fiction written by Random One-Shot

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…_and no one doth knoweth from whence they have arisen, but all agree that they are Great in their power and might. In form they are draconic, but their flesh is that of dreams and mist. Wisdom is in their eyes and power in their claws. All who meet them walk away changed. Truly, these creatures are not of our world… _

…_before the fall of High Earl Jareth's reign there was, for a time, a horrific series of atrocities committed against the riders of the Order who were waylaid and imprisoned in the mad Earl's dungeons. These crimes would have gone on unreported had not a series of messages been relayed to certain persons in dreams by those our dragon brothers call Guardians…. _

…_lacking bodies of their own, these creatures exist solely on the astral plane. Occasionally, they have been known to reach out to our world through mediums, most notably dreams or spiritually sensitive persons. While most of these spirits are malevolent in nature, delighting in the tricking and tormenting of those who walk the physical world, there exist a few spirits who seem to express an interest in aiding those who are troubled. In various legends and documents of astral experimentation, many of these spirits take the form of, surprisingly enough, great dragons…. _

…_And I walked through the corridor of my soul, seeking a release from this burdensome life I carried. Crossing a bridge of silk over a chasm of stars, I reached the edge of my mortality. Had I taken another step forward, I would surely have fallen off this mortal coil and followed my dear Nephrite, scaled brother of my heart that he was, into death and oblivion, had not a great white dragon appeared before me. "Go back," it said unto me. "Nephrite, who we loved dearly, has sold his life so that you may keep yours…." _

And that was it.

It went on and on like that. All legends and vague descriptions of dragons or their riders or an occasional sorcerer meeting up with something that may or may not have been a Spirit Dragon, receiving a few words of cryptic wisdom and advice, and then one of the two leaving. There was nothing concrete, nothing definite, and, most frustrating of all, nothing that would tell what to expect from the beings themselves.

Terror and panic had long ago lost their hold over Rynn, but frustration still made her want to scream.

The buxom redhead tossed the moldering tome back onto the desk and stared hopelessly at the dwindling pile that the Brotherhood of the Eternal Word had graciously gathered for her. They were still even then sorting through their seemingly endless supply of cryptic texts looking for more that might help, but the going was slow. While all of the monks could read, not all of them were proficiently skilled at it beyond merely copying older documents onto fresh paper. Even worse, it took a great deal of time and patience to decipher the handwriting of some of the works. Rynn was seriously considering asking the abbot to make legible handwriting part of the requirements for novices to advance to the rank of monk.

"Damnation," Rynn sighed.

The candles were burning low in their pools of wax, and her back and neck ached horribly from hunching over the low desk for so long. Her eyes did not feel too great, either. Rynn was starting to understand why all the brothers in the monastery were so nearsighted.

"Later then," she said.

Rynn stood up from the uncomfortably rigid chair and stretched, feeling and hearing her spine and joints pop back into their proper alignment. The small window in her impromptu study gave her a glimpse of the fading sunlight when she walked over to peer out of it. The last blaze of orange and gold was burning away in the horizon, and the misty twilight of purple and gray that came after it was fading to dark blue and black. The first stars were beginning to show their faces and the moons were glowing vibrantly.

Dinnertime, her stomach growled at her. Rynn agreed with it. Her last meal had been a bowl of lukewarm porridge she had snatched from the castle kitchen early in the morning. It had had the consistency and taste of the paste that Rynn had used to bind together the spine of a book when she was sixteen and –

_- "__**Delon!**__" The cold of not-space and his face, oh god, his face, he knew she would not reach him in time - _

- and suddenly she was on her knees, not remembering the trip down, and retching. Her long red hair, greasy and dirty from four days without a proper wash, spilled across her shoulders and touched the cold stone floor, and it was a darker color with the filth, the color of –

_- his blood it didn't matter if the soul was of another she was fighting her own brother and __**where the fuck was Arokh**__ she needed help yesterday – _

- gagging on her own juices. The stomach acid was strong and bitter and scorchingly hot in her throat as it fought its way up. Her stomach had taken on the form of a pretzel and it was still even then twisting more –

_- "I'm sorry Rynn, but we don't have time to mourn." What 'we', she thinks. Your brother died centuries ago and mine has_ -

- tears were forming in her eyes and snot was clogging her nose, signs of something she had been pushing away for weeks -

_- she falls through the air, clinging to his neck for dear life and in the seconds when Rynn is still around and the dragon rider has not appeared, she sees the thing that they have come to fight and what little remains of her_ _sanity is torn away like so much grass. Her arrows are flying not to aid Arokh, but because she simply __**has**__ to kill it, has to deny this Rift-spawned abomination its unholy existence - _

-and the last heave got it all out.

Had it really only been ten weeks? No, on second thought not even that long. Two months. Just two _months_. Two months ago, she had been sitting down to dinner with her brother. Two months ago, she had been at home in her little village with no name by the sea. Two months ago, her biggest kill had been a lone wartock scout who got too close to her home for comfort four years earlier.

And two months later, here she was – Rynn, the heroine; Rynn, the bonded of Arokh; Rynn, the destroyer of the Dark Union reborn; Rynn, the slayer of Navaros; Rynn, the light of Surdana; Rynn, the ruin of storms; Rynn, the hero of the northern wastes; Rynn, the desert tamer; Rynn, the Desert Lord's bane.

She sick to death of it all.

'_Just get up_', she thought. _'Just get up and… and get some damn dinner and go find Arokh. Hell, that's what I really want.'_

Coughing up the last of her bile, Rynn weakly spat it out onto the floor and stood up. She felt curiously weak and drained. Stepping over the puddle of vomit nearly sent her falling down to the floor again. Leaning against the wall seemed to help and Rynn slowly made her way to the heavy door.

Her hand wrapped around the pull ring and Rynn breathed in deeply, tasting foulness. The air did not help and there seemed to be a growing ache centered directly behind her forehead. Perfect.

'_Let's get something straight here,' _Rynn ordered. _'You are the dragon rider. You are not weak. You do not get sick. You are going to open this door, get a meal, find your partner, discuss relevant issues at hand and go to bed, in that order. If Lady Myschala asks for a report, you will give her one. If General Dehrimon asks you for a report, you will give him one. You will not collapse. You. Will not. Collapse.' _

Rynn opened the door.

'_And you will clean this mess up before anyone finds it. Understood?'_

* * *

><p>There was something indescribably beautiful about Drakan from the air.<p>

If Arokh had been a poet he might have been able to put it to words, but he was a warrior and as such his specialty lay more in the 'burn things until they stop screaming' range. Still, just because he was a connoisseur at distinguishing the variety of ways there were to fry something did not mean he had no appreciation for anything else. He especially preferred the view at night, when Drakan's moons were full and round, the light giving a pale tint to the hills and mountains that Surdana was situated within and turning the lakes and rivers to molten silver. Everything became quiet and still. He could hover in the air a few hundred feet above the ground and the only sound would be his wings.

It had become especially restful ever since he had woken from his sleep and found that the world had gone to hell.

Surdana's nights were quickly becoming his refuge. Under the guise of patrolling – and it was not a _complete_ lie, per se. The sight of a three-ton, fire-breathing dragon had scared off more than a few minor troubles in the past two weeks – he could stop thinking about everything that had happened to him and Heron and Rynn and the world at large and just _fly_, reveling in the power and grace that made a dragon a dragon. He cleared snow-capped mountains in minutes, where a group of humans would have taken weeks. He coasted over a lake that a wartock would have needed four days to circumvent. He climbed to altitudes that would have killed those miserable black wings and stared at the clouds below him. He danced through the air until his troubles left.

Lately though, it was becoming more and more difficult, and Arokh was very tempted to blame Rynn.

It had been almost two months since their bonding. The time for the more _interesting_ side effects to show was just starting, if his memory was right. Catching the edge of Rynn's emotional baggage was just the beginning. He really needed to have a talk with that girl. The only problem was, she was getting harder and harder to be alone with.

The responsibilities of a knight of the Order were many. The responsibilities of the only two knights of the Order in the world were ridiculous. Arokh did not have a problem with it. Or at least, he had not. As far as he was concerned, someone had to fix the mess and why not he and Rynn? They had some significant advantages over most others.

But once he had taken a moment to actually pursue that train of thought with his other half in mind, he realized that no one had ever asked _her_ what she had wanted.

Rynn had never gone into detail about her life prior to the attack on her village, but Arokh was a good observer and he could guess. She had been trained in the martial arts decently, if not extensively. Most of what she used to fight with seemed to either be self-taught or improvised at the moment. Whatever teacher she had found couldn't have had too much time with her before the instruction ceased. Still, she was phenomenal learner and never made the same mistake twice, so far as he could see, and that served her well.

She had not been in many fights before meeting him. Her skin had next to zero scars and she did not walk the way Heron and the other human knights had, all grace and awareness, ready to lash out if anything chose to attack. She didn't keep walls to her back and she was only just now getting used to the idea that just because every living thing under the sun wanted to kill humans didn't mean that all humans stuck together. Zola Dane had been good for something, at least.

The biggest thing that those little facts and clues told him was that Rynn had never intended to live her life as a warrior. She had studied the fighting arts as a means of self-defense, maybe even as a way to protect her village, but it was not the life she had wanted beyond all others.

When Arokh had shattered the rock that had kept him away from the world for a thousand years, he had not seen a woman worthy of the title 'knight', had not seen someone who he thought was a good choice to spend the rest of his considerable life with. He had seen a scraped up, beaten down, filthy, tired and bedraggled girl who was all but ready to collapse, and who was begging him to go save her brother. At that point it was either go back to sleep and spend another few centuries as a cave ornament, or join his soul with a complete stranger to hunt down a bunch of filthy wartocks and save her brat brother.

A few hours after _that_ the cave ornament option was sounding very tempting indeed. The other course of action was to keep going after the brat, fighting off the reformed Dark Union (the most dangerous organization to ever walk the planet. Rynn had not cared), doing it with just one bonded pair (whereas before it had taken the majority of the Order and several long, bloody years of warfare that had altered Drakan's landscape. Rynn had not cared), and killing off a soul stealing monstrosity who was technically already dead (and who wanted Arokh's blood for tossing him into the Rift for a few hundred years. Rynn had not cared. Arokh had very much cared).

The girl had stubborn in spades, but only if the goal was a personal one.

The journey to open the Mother's Eye had been treated with a slow, plodding determination. The rabid obsession with which she had chased Delon five hundred miles across Drakan was nowhere to be seen. Saving Drakan was a must, but it had not been something she felt motivated to do.

'_Which brings us to the question of the hour – what are we going to do now?'_ Arokh wondered.

He was perfectly fine with remaining Surdana. It was one of the few defensible settlements they had come across and it had some definite appeal. A sorceress, several libraries, a working guard unit and a big gateway that could take them to another corner of the world in a heartbeat. So long as Myschala did not get the idea into her head that he and Rynn were her personal soldiers, Arokh was in no hurry to –

- there was a tearing, twisting pain in his stomach and Arokh convulsed in the air, his wings crumpling and gravity taking hold.

He had drifted down during his musings and the ground was suddenly very close. Ignoring the pain, Arokh obeyed that instinct that all flighted creatures posses, the one that shrieks 'gravity is not for everyone!', and spread his wings through the pain. The fact that it did nothing to make the hurting worse led him to the knowledge of where the pain was coming from.

_Rynn_.

The pain that flared up around his wing joints was all his as Arokh's full weight came down on them. Air ballooned the membrane lining his wings and Arokh neatly turned his tumble into the momentum he needed to veer sharply back into the sky and swing back around toward Surdana.

After a few moments the pain in his gut was gone, leaving only the throbbing of his wings to indicate that it had ever happened. That finalized it, then. Something had happened to Rynn. Trying not to think about what, Arokh decided that when he saw her, they were definitely going to have a long overdue discussion.


	2. Koda

_I don't own Drakan. Does anything else need to be said? On with the story!_

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Light A Candle

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A Drakan fan fiction written by Random One-Shot

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_The waves were roaring in his ears, the waves and something else, something that made the island quake and sent the entire village trembling. 'It's down there. It's waking up,' he thought. And then, 'what?'. Sometimes, if he came close to waking during this part, he would try to follow that thought, but not on this night. The sky was dark, but the moons were bright and his feet kept carrying him further and further down the path. He knew the path, had walked it many times before, but it seemed different this time, more ominous._

_But it was the path that the white creature was guiding him down and he could not refuse it. It had come to him for several nights now, night after night, and each time he went a little further down the path, a little closer to the ocean, a little deeper into the caves that ran helter-skelter beneath his village. The crashing of the violent waves that he had known, always, would give way to something else when he began walking into the dark wet of the caves, the Booming Deep. That was all you heard when you went down there. Boom, boom, boom; over and over again as the ocean struggled to wipe away the island. _

_Except he could hear something else, something with as much rhythm as the waves, but different. Deep and heavy, but soft somehow, like it was resting. _

"_He is," the beautiful creature said, suddenly right next to him in the dark. _

"_He sleeps, Koda. He waits for you." _

'_He? Who-' _

"Koda!"

Koda snapped to wakefulness at his master's shout.

The first thing he was aware of was a horrible pain in his back and neck. The second thing he was aware of was that he was not in his nice warm bed, but in the hard, rickety old chair that sat in front of the desk that master Krod did his account and record keeping at. The third thing he became aware of was that he was drooling. The teenage boy hastily wiped the saliva off of his chin with his shirtsleeve and then sat up, wincing as he felt his spine realign after several hours of improper posture. Taking a quick look around, Koda saw that it was morning from the light coming through the cracks in the shutters. Also, his candle had long since died out, and the wax was cool and stiff.

"Here, master Krod," Koda called back.

He had fallen asleep at the desk again. It was not surprising, considering how much of his time had been consumed by work lately. It was nearing the end of the safe sailing season and very soon all of the island would be cut off for months at a time. Krod liked to have his business straightened out and settled before the first storms came in, but with all the orders coming in from both the mainland villages and their own people, Koda was having trouble finding the time to eat and relieve himself.

'_And it isn't like that stupid dream is helping,'_ Koda thought.

The thin door to Krod's study swung open and the hunched old man blinked curiously at the sight of his apprentice shoving scraps and sheets of paper together in the early morning light that leaked through the shutters.

"Good heavens boy, again? I am perfectly capable of managing my own records. Have for years, long before you were even born," Krod grumbled.

"Yes, back in the days when fire was new and the wheel was a wonder," Koda said, smiling weakly. "Good morning to you as well, master. Is it my turn to cook breakfast or yours?"

"As if the master would cook a meal for the apprentice!"

"Right, right," Koda yawned. He shoved the last of the papers into a drawer of the desk and stood up on his wobbly legs. The study, thankfully, was not far away from the oven and the burners that Krod kept banked night and day for his alchemy, so it was warm at least. If there was something Koda hated more than sleeping in a chair, it was sleeping in a chair that was inside of a drafty, freezing room.

But there was little chance of that since the walls were sound and that broken lock on the left shutter had been nicely repaired the year before. They had had no problems with it since, which was good because one morning of waking to find the season's accounts strewn over the floor and sopping wet from rain that had come through the open window in the night was one morning too many. The small shelves filled with books that took up the west wall had all received water damage and Koda had spent many hours carefully scraping away the mold that had formed along the pages in a way that would not damage the books themselves. The desk had faired fine enough and the chair Koda did not give a thought about, but the books were treasures beyond worth in his opinion.

It was the books Koda looked at as he left, squeezing past his shriveled, bespectacled old teacher in the small doorway. How tempting they were at that moment. Spending an afternoon reading was infinitely preferable to running around the village making last minute deliveries.

"Bacon today, m'boy," Krod said as Koda moved past him. "That side of bacon we've been saving, and some of Aleen's butter to go with our bread."

"We're going to need more bacon tomorrow," Koda reminded his teacher. "And Hanover says he won't take anything less than a pound of the arthritis tea mixture for our month's worth."

"Robbery!" Krod snarled. "You cook, boy. Leave Hanover to me. And for god's sake, remember to go to bed tonight. If you nod off again and your candle catches on my desk, it won't take much for the whole place to go up. Sleeping in a chair isn't good for you anyway."

"You _would_ know about that, wouldn't you?" Koda remarked.

"How do you think I got this?" Krod pointed at his hunch as he followed Koda into the kitchen.

"All the old people I know have a hunchback," Koda said. "I just figured it was a requirement, like white hairs."

"Horrible child."

"Dark bread or white bread today, master?"

* * *

><p>Alchemy and cooking went nearly hand in hand. You could not make a good meal or a good powder if you let something burn. They both required a good sense of measurement and intuition, as well as the ability to follow a set of instructions that could sometimes be ridiculously complicated. You needed neither of these things to be a fisherman; just a strong back and the ability to follow orders. Koda was a boy with a curious mind and a need to know the reason behind things. Therefore, he was quite glad to be able to make a perfect soufflé instead of haul in a day's catch. As far as he was concerned, the life of the fisherman was not for him.<p>

It did not stop him from looking out over the sea cliffs at the dozen small boats that bobbed in the water like seagulls and wondering what it would be like to go away on one of them. Even on a fishing trip, to just get away from the island for a while.

"Hm, maybe later…." Koda muttered and continued walking along the cliffside path that led down to the lower end of the island. Far below, waves crashed against the rock and sent flecks of salt spray flying up into the air. Koda could smell the seawater, the fish and the seaweed from where he was. Koda had once asked Krod, in his earlier days of apprenticeship, why the old man chose to isolate his home and shop in the center of the island so far from the village at the water's edge. He had received the response, "Because if something ever goes wrong in this old shack, the less people around, the better."

That had more or less been his introduction to the idea that a stupid alchemist was not going to be an old alchemist.

The small cart Koda hauled behind him was weighted down with the mixes, medicines and chemicals that Krod traded and sold. It was the last shipment before his master closed shop for the winter and it was going to buy them most of their needed dried goods and a new blanket to replace the one that Krod had ruined cleaning up an acid spill.

It took another forty minutes of walking before Koda reached level ground at the graveled beach that encircled his home. The island that he lived on was a chunk of land about four miles off the coast of the continent and shaped vaguely like a hand. The one peninsula formed a thumb and the village was at the space between thumb and palm. The 'fingers' of the island rose up into a series of steep hills covered in short, scruffy trees and boulders. The beach at the lower end started out level, which was likely why the village had been placed there, and then began slanting upward into the aforementioned hills. By the time you reach the back of the island, you were looking down five hundred foot tall cliffs to the roaring ocean below.

All of this meant that Koda had an easy time going down to the village, but the trip back was going to be much less so. There was nothing quite like dragging a thirty pound cart uphill to ruin one's morning.

"We need to get a donkey," Koda muttered, right before a sharp rock pierced through his thin-soled shoe.

"Ow!"

* * *

><p>"…and some of my fish buns, I know how growing boys are so hungry all the time, and look at the state of you! All skin and bones on a frame too large by half! You can't be getting enough to eat with that batty old codger in his shack, you poor boy, why don't you come live with me? Ana and I could use a good, strong lad around the house."<p>

"No thank you, ma'am. I'm happy with Master Krod."

Koda was not stupid. He knew exactly what Granny Melidere was after and he was not giving it to her. He couldn't really blame her for it, though. Ana had a face like a barnacle and as far as Melidere had to be concerned, any husband for her grown granddaughter would be better than no husband at all. Still, Koda was fifteen and had plenty of trouble keeping himself and Krod fed without adding another dependant to the list.

"Well then, off with you," the old woman said good-naturedly. "Thank you kindly for delivering my joint salve, and you tell that crazy old bat in his roost that I'll remember it when I'm baking pies next spring."

"Will do, ma'am. Good-bye."

Koda had the self-restraint to keep from running out the door. It was a close call, but he had it. It seemed like ever since he had turned fifteen, the women in the village were spending all their spare time trying to find some way to get him married to one of their daughters. A few had even come calling to Krod about setting up a match. Thankfully the old man would have none of it. Koda wasn't sure why they were all so dead set on it; Krod was a bachelor and he seemed perfectly content.

Dropping the bags of flour, salt and a small package of fish buns into his cart, Koda picked up the last parcel and saw that it was the bottle of special oil Brom liked to use for his harpoons. He was the best whaler in the entire village and Krod only charged him half-price as a result. Sighing, Koda pulled his cart along the rough path that led from Granny Melidere's house back to the village proper. As he went he made sure to look at each and every sight he could, storing it away into his memory. Unless they had a clear day in the coming winter, the storms would keep him and Krod locked in their cabin for the season.

There were people everywhere, hurrying to and fro as they made ready for the cold months. Most of them were wearing furs brought over from the village on the mainland coast four miles away, their island being too small to support any real game for clothing or meat. A great deal more, like Koda, were wearing cloth that had been lined with whale intestine for waterproofing. Better to be dry than warm. Fur and leather did not do well when wet.

Brom's house was a tiny two-room thing at the water's edge. His wife opened the door for Koda and gave him a cup of hot tea while he waited for her to pack together the dried fish that would feed Krod and himself for a month. He was nearly done with it when Brom's loud voice called a greeting.

"I'm home!"

Kyrien immediately began fussing over her husband, dragging the waterproofed cape off his shoulders and rubbing a towel over his wet head. Looking at the big man, Koda could see drops of seawater still glistening from his beard. He must have just got off his boat.

And then Brom looked at Koda and an odd thing happened.

Koda did not know Brom particularly well. He knew of him as the best whaler in the village, knew that he had two sons near Koda's own age and knew that he was regarded as an honest man, if sometimes a bit _too_ honest. Koda had never spoken more than twenty words with him, never given anything to Brom that would earn him a special place in the man's memory, whether good or ill.

Thus he was extremely surprised when Brom gently took his wife by the shoulders and asked her to leave him alone with Koda for a minute.

Clearly as perplexed as Koda, Kyrien nonetheless did as she was asked. The thin door of the cabin clicked shut behind her and Koda looked carefully at the tall man who he was now alone with.

Brom was staring at him oddly. Koda vaguely recognized it as the same look Krod made whenever he preformed some new and potentially dangerous experiment.

"Koda," Brom said carefully, "do you and Master Krod have any weapons in your cabin?"

'_What?'_

"Why do you ask?" Koda replied.

Brom licked his lips nervously and it occurred to Koda that the man who threw sharp things at creatures more than a hundred times his size was afraid.

"It's probably nothing," Brom said. "We're a good four miles out from the mainland and the seas are getting pretty bad this time of year. We'd see anything coming from over the water and it isn't like there's anything worth stealing here, so – "

'_He's rambling,'_ Koda thought.

'_Not good.'_

"Mr. Brom, what are you talking about?" Koda asked.

Brom blinked and for a moment he looked irritated. Then it passed and he started speaking quietly and carefully.

"Like I said, it's probably nothing, so don't spread it around. I'm only telling you because you and that old man live so far from the rest of us," Brom said.

"We stopped by the mainland to drop off some of our catch before we swung back home and we heard rumors going around about wartock raids, among other things. Seems that there have been villages discovered with no one left alive in them. Just bunches of corpses. And there are stories about people being taken away, probably during those raids, as slaves for god only knows what."

"Oh," Koda said quietly.

He'd heard of wartocks. Everyone had. They were the things the priest in their small church used to frighten disobedient children. Koda knew that they were real – had even spoken to a few travelers who had seen and fought them – but he had never encountered one himself. No one on the island had.

"The reason I'm telling you this," Brom was saying, "is because one of those villages that got torched to the ground wasn't too far south of here. Three or four days, maybe. So, I don't think we'll be having any problems, with the ocean between us and trouble, but better to be safe than sorry, right?"

"Um… yes sir," Koda mumbled.

Brom smiled, but it was a thin thing. "Good kid. Like I said, the storm season is coming up. So, unless they've got a wizard with them, anything they want to try will have to be done pretty soon. Within the next week or so. Koda, do you get me?"

"…You think that we might get attacked pretty soon… and you want me to have master Krod ready. Right?"

"Yeah. That's right. I know neither of you is any good with a harpoon, but you've got some magic to fling, don't you?"

"Alchemy," Koda responded, feeling insulted even when he knew he shouldn't. "Not magic. Two different things."

"Eh, wizard stuff either way," Brom sighed. "Just have it ready, because you might need it."

'_Wizard stuff?'_

For a moment, Koda, normally a mellow boy, found himself seriously considering the option of calling Brom, a professional whaler, a fisherman. Then his common sense won out and he reined in his temper. Brom did not mean to be rude. If anything, he had been trying to help. Koda and Krod lived far from the village and he could have just as easily left them ignorant.

"I… I will, Mr. Brom. Thank you for the warning," Koda said, bowing his head.

He did not see or hear Brom cross the warped floor to stand in front of him, but the heavy, rough hand that slammed down onto his shoulder alerted him to the fact just as well.

"Don't worry about it," Brom said, his face now split by an easy grin. "Just keep your eyes open for a week or so, and then the storms will take care of anything stupid enough to try crossing the ocean."

Perfectly timed, there was a knock on the door and Kyrien poked her weathered face through the opening.

"Are you two done yet?" The fisher wife asked.

"Yep," Brom said cheerfully. "Now, what do you say about getting this kid packed up?"

Twenty minutes later, Koda was on the path out of the village, all thoughts of his odd conversation out of his mind.

* * *

><p>"Wartocks?"<p>

Krod's tone suggested that he would be less skeptical if Koda had used the word kraken. There were sightings of the things from time to time, after all. But wartocks?

"Doubtful, boy. Truly doubtful. We're a small island four miles out into the ocean and the stormy season is just a sneeze away. They'd have to be pretty desperate to make a go for us."

"I'm just telling you what Brom said, master."

"Well, he's a good man, if a bit loud," Krod muttered. "There's almost no chance he's right, but as he said, why risk it? I showed you a while back how to make that flash power. Do you remember it?"

"Yes sir. Aluminum powder and potassium perchlorate, or charcoal, nitrate and sulfur," Koda recited.

"Hm, good. But there are a few other tricks I can teach you. Come here, we have a lesson to learn," Krod grumbled as he led the way into his workshop with Koda at his heels.

What followed was two hours of Koda grabbing different ingredients at Krod's command ("No, not that one, boy! The yellow jar!") and mixing them together ("You _grind_ with a pestle, don't scrape.") to form different powders and liquids that Krod devoted a great deal of breath to describe ("Aim for the eyes with this one and he'll go blind for _don'tputitneartheflamestupidboy!_").

When he crawled into bed well after the sun went down, Koda's head was spinning with new ideas and information. Most of it was Krod's various descriptions of what the compounds would do to anyone Koda might ever have to use them on or Koda himself, if he wasn't careful.

But they faded away when he slept.

Koda twitched in his sleep, the roar of the ocean and the boom of the waves in the caves beneath the island vibrating in his bones. There were flickers of white mist in his vision, but they moved as if they were alive. And they whispered:

_"He's waiting for you, Koda."_


	3. Rynn and Arokh 2

_**I don't own Drakan. Does anything else need to be said? On with the story!**_

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**Light A Candle**

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A Drakan fan fiction written by Random One-Shot

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There was, Arokh noticed, a certain set of benefits that came with being the only two knights of the Order. Everyone knew who you were and no one bothered with the old formalities that had taken up so much time before the war. The guards stationed at either side of great castle doors, who would have either run screaming or taken up arms at the sight of any other dragon, politely sent word into the castle for Rynn instead as Arokh settled himself onto the castle's great bridge. The entry hall was big enough to accommodate him, but Myschala had had to throw away the entire carpet after the damage his claws had done to it the one time he had entered. It had been a relic from before the Rift War, so he suspected she was still a bit miffed at him for that.

It didn't take long for Rynn for show up. Dehrimon and his two remaining captains (Desert Lords tended to have an adverse effect on one's militia) were close behind her. Returning his gaze to his rider, Arokh found that he did not like what he saw. She stank of sweat and grime, at least three days worth. Her face was paler than it should have been and there were dark half-rings under her eyes. He felt a tiny flicker of disgust, although he wasn't sure if it was for her or himself. How had she gotten this bad without anyone noticing? How had she gotten so bad without _himself_ noticing?

"When was the last time you bathed?" Arokh asked bluntly.

Rynn's first words ground to a halt in her throat. What came out instead was "What?"

Her dragon's – _partner's_, she reminded herself firmly – head lowered forward until he was close enough that she could feel him breathing against her skin.

"When," Arokh said slowly, "was the last time you had a bath, Rynn? You stink."

All of the things Rynn had thought Arokh had to say – a Wartock raid approaching, a pack of Black Wings hunting off of one of the farms, another necromancer taking up shop beneath the city – a comment on her personal hygiene was not one of them and the redhead felt something inside of her start burning.

"What the _hell _does that have to – "

"And when was the last time you slept? I think a breeze could knock you over," Arokh said.

"I'm fine, Arokh. Now what are you – "

"Answer my question, Rynn."

"Look, _I'm fine_. Now what – "

"_Answer. The question. Rynn."_

Sometimes she forgot how big Arokh was.

She thought she could feel him sometimes when it was calm. He was a big, gentle presence at the back of her head, vaguely reassuring in the way that a parent was to a child at night. Despite his growling at their first meeting, Arokh had never once even yelled at her, no matter how frustrated he ever got. He was her partner and her biggest supporter.

Now he was glaring at her, all three tons of him, and it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under Rynn's feet. Suddenly she was thirteen years old again and Adamar was giving her a lecture.

"I… I went to sleep last night."

"For how long?"

"A few hours, but I'm – "

Sometimes, she forgot how fast, how graceful, Arokh was.

He was moving before her mind had even registered the motion, her hand instinctively going to her sword hilt until '_it's __**Arokh**_' crashed through her mind and she stopped. Then his massive red paws were wrapping around her waist, the glowing yellow eyes set into his wedge-shaped head never leaving her face, and she was being picked up off the bridge like a mouse by a cat.

Aware that Dehrimon and his men were shouting at Arokh, telling him to put Rynn down, what was wrong, why was he doing this, Rynn was equally aware of Arokh's wings spreading and the muscles in his big red body tensing in a way that she knew meant flight. She stopped thinking and reacted, her hands latching onto his scales in a tight grip as he launched them both over the edge of the castle bridge.

There was that one first moment of weightlessness that she still was not totally used to. Her stomach was nothing but a bubble of air that wanted to rise up out of her and she was feeling herself go _up_ even though she knew that she was really going _down_. Then Arokh's wings caught their bodyweight and there was the bone-jerking collision with gravity, somewhat lessened this time because of the careful grip Arokh had on her. One of his paws had come up to cradle her upper half and head. Then he leveled out and they were speeding over the small lake that was below the town and Jade's tower, flying over the river far below and past the outlying Surdana farms to the hills and rivers beyond them.

They came to a halt near one of the many small lakes that the rivers fed. Rynn, traveling as she was, had no idea which one. All she knew was that it was probably nearer to the mountains than the others and she only knew that because the first Arokh did upon landing was to gently toss her into it. At that time of year only the ones closest to the snow that made the water were so frigid.

It could have been worse. She could have been wearing her armor, which, no matter how light compared to Dehrimon's, was nonetheless an extra twenty pounds of weight. Instead, she only had the added weight of a sword and that was so familiar these days as to be nonexistent. Rynn swam up to the surface and sucked in one huge mouthful of air, while simultaneously feeling the skin on her face tighten when the air hit it. Nearby on the lakeshore, Arokh was settling into a restful sprawl with his gaze still lazily fixed on her.

'_Filthy lizard bastard!' _

Rynn shrieked.

"_WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU BLOODY TWIT?" _

Arokh finished settling his bulk onto the verdant grass and said, quite plainly, "Watching you take a bath. Start scrubbing."

There were, Rynn realized, some situations that simply had no words for themselves.

Twenty-two breaststrokes brought her staggering out of the lake, drenched and freezing. Arokh had reclined within spitting distance of her current position.

"You filthy red beast, I'm going – "

Spitting distance for Rynn was grabbing distance for Arokh and the redhead found herself once again sailing through the air to crash into the water. She managed to curl into a ball before the impact.

The second time, Rynn didn't bother leaving the lake. She stood hip deep in the waves and let loose the blistering tongue that Adamar had unsuccessfully tried to gentle years ago.

"_Stupid, ugly, hideous, inconsiderate, selfish, stinking, unnatural, beastly, rotten, thieving, lying, traitorous, parasite-ridden, diseased, fool minded LIZARD!" _

The dragon just looked exasperated.

"Rynn, _take a bath_. You stink and I don't talk with people who stink. They remind me of Wartocks and I kill those."

Rynn didn't know if it was possibly to explode from sheer fury, but she was probably going to find out in a few more seconds.

On the lake shore, Arokh idly examined his claws for breaks or tears.

"_I_ can do this all day. _I_ am a dragon. _You _are a small, squishy, irrational woman. If the dragon wants the woman to take a bath and the woman doesn't want to take a bath, who do you think will win? The big, fire-breathing dragon or the exhausted, soaking wet woman?"

Rynn threw a rock at his head.

* * *

><p>In the end, she had to take a bath if only to get out of the damn water. Until he declared her stench free, Arokh simply kept forcing her back in. Occasionally he took pity on her and gently pushed her deeper in, but mostly he picked her up and tossed her. Seven splashes later and Rynn was rethinking her bath stance.<p>

There was no soap and, worse, there were no drying cloths, which left her to scrub at her skin with harsh sand scooped up from the lake bed and then walk out onto the shore to air dry. Arokh's massive bulk nearly radiated heat, but Rynn felt more inclined to freeze to death than go anywhere near her bonded just then.

"So," the reeking, treacherous, domineering, inconsiderate _lizard_ said with a perfectly straight face. "Do you feel better now?"

A second rock, cunningly hidden in Rynn's hand until then, thwacked him hard on the left nostril.

Arokh's yellow eyes seemed to narrow, although how that was possible Rynn did not know. Dragons did not have eyebrows. "Are you that eager to back in the lake?"

"You _kidnap_ me, _dump me_ in a freezing lake with no warning, tell me to _bathe,_ then _watch me_ as I bathe and _that is all you have to say?"_

"No, but it's a start," Arokh admitted shamelessly. "And really, I have no interest in watching you bathe, but I needed to make sure you were thorough. If I'd left, you would have just sat in the water until I came back and then lied. Rest assured, I would only have designs on your honor if you had scales."

Rynn's sodden clothes flew through the air and landed over Arokh's snout with a wet _shlop_ sound.

For the second time that day, Rynn found herself face to face with a dragon before she could do more than blink.

"_Stop. Throwing. Things,_" Arokh growled.

"I will _when you tell me what this is about!"_ Rynn shrieked, her temper finally dying completely and bursting into dragon-induced flames. The only thing remaining on her person was the long sword and it was becoming more tempting by the second.

"I needed to get you away from Surdana. The bath was just for my comfort. You really did stink, Rynn."

'_Must. Not. Stab. Dragon.'_

"Now, you're still angry, so I'll make this quick," Arokh said as he settled back down into a sprawl. "There are… things happening between the two of us now that you need to be informed of. There are also several concerns I've been having that we need to discuss. Several of those concerns revolve around Surdana and I did not want to speak of them where Dehrimon and Myschala could hear. Do you understand me so far?"

She did, but she didn't.

What _things_? What concerns could he have about Surdana that he didn't want Surdana's leaders to learn of?

Rynn nodded anyway.

"Good. Mostly I wanted to talk about _you_."

Rynn blinked. "What?"

"You, Rynn. You've been driving yourself to the point of collapse these last few days. You don't eat enough, you don't sleep enough and I believe I've made it clear that you haven't been bathing enough."

Rynn frowned and steadily ignored the chill that was creeping through her body. "There's been little time to rest. With the research on the Mother, the messengers from the Isles and Ravenshold, retaking the desert, clearing out raiding parties – "

"Precisely my point," Arokh said firmly. "There's too much to do and it won't all disappear over night, so why are you thinking you can make it do just that? You need rest to work, Rynn. Will and drive won't hold you up forever."

"I haven't been fighting lately. I don't need that energy like I usually do, so I – "

"And if that changes? Rynn, if you had to fight right now, I think you'd only last a few minutes before you had to rest. You do remember that any pain you feel transfers to me, yes? I wouldn't be much better off."

"But the fighting's over, so – "

"No."

One little syllable and Rynn felt her heart stop.

"Wha… What do you mean?"

Arokh looked at her sadly. "Rynn, Drakan has become a lawless, wild place. Whatever small peace we keep in Surdana is to be found _only_ in Surdana. Ravenshold is still threatened by Half-Men. The Wartocks still raid the countryside. Who knows what lays in wait for us beyond these mountains? The Dark Union and the Desert Lords were terrible, yes, but they were hardly the only threats alive. If we do not have another battle, several battles, to fight yet, I will be amazed."

Rynn opened her mouth, unsure of just what she was trying to say, but Arokh kept speaking. His gaze was aimed over her head and into the blue sky.

"In fact, if someone were planning to destroy what we are trying to build, now would be a good time to do it. The best, in fact. Myschala is sending out couriers to the farms and villages beyond her borders and asking for people to come to Surdana to help it grow. In a year, two years, the walls around the town will be fully repaired and we should have more men and women in the guard. We would almost certainly have found a few more dragons. Yes, if I were going to destroy a growing settlement, I would do it sooner rather than later."

"But there's no one left to – "

"Not here, true. As I said, the Desert Lords are gone and Snot-Maw's death has fractured the Wartocks and Grull back into warring tribes, but that situation could easily change. All it would take is particularly charismatic and brutal chieftain to bring the Wartocks and Grull back together. I'm also sure there a few Desert Lords who've gone into hiding – there's no way we managed to exterminate them all. That isn't even counting the many bandits and pirates who would see a secure fortress like Surdana as an ideal haven, should they manage to take it from its defenders."

By that point, Rynn had given up on anger and settled next to Arokh's warm scales. They pressed into her soft skin like plate mail, but she ignored the sensation.

"So, what do you suggest?" Rynn asked quietly.

"First of all, I want to hear you say you will start taking proper care of yourself. Until other dragons start awakening, we are the only bonded pair in the entirety of Drakan. You are _not_ allowed to run yourself ragged like this."

"Fine," Rynn muttered.

"Second of all, I want to ask you if you want to stay in Surdana."

The question took Rynn by surprise. Frowning, she lifted her head and stared into Arokh's eyes.

"What do you mean? Why in the world would I want to leave?" She asked.

"Right now, we are the most powerful force in Surdana, save perhaps Jade. However, given that she was unable to deal with Surdana's troubles herself, I wonder at her strength. We are certainly helping to keep the threat level down by our very presence, but that is all we are doing. Dehrimon's scouts cannot cover the ground we can and so we are currently unaware of the situation anywhere more than ten days trek away from here. We have not heard of any dragon sightings beyond the Black Wings. We are simply sitting here and waiting for something to happen, while you work yourself to the bone over those scriptures in the meantime.

"As this happens, the townspeople are becoming more and more reliant on us. Myschala herself is no exception. Right now, we are living under her roof and eating her food, which would at least slightly put her in the mind of us being her houseguests. I would be very surprised if she did not feel that she was even slightly entitled to our services. If we did decide to leave, I cannot think she would be happy."

"You think _Myschala_ would become an enemy?" Rynn blurted out.

Arokh glared at her. "No! Stupid girl; when did I say that? I said that Myschala, a noblewoman and likely someone with little experience in being refused, would be displeased if we left. We are the biggest asset to her city's defense right now, Rynn. With us, she not only has a chance to keep what she has, but also to _expand_. Her lands cover this valley and most of the others, but no further. We could change that and she knows it."

"Then what's the problem? She's a good ruler," Rynn said.

"Thus far, yes. I believe she would continue to be so, but, Rynn, what if she wasn't? What if, by some miracle, we manage to secure a lasting peace and Myschala is the only ruler to govern the people we bring together, as it seems she will be? I do not think she would turn into a tyrant, but there is not much stopping her now beyond her need for Dehrimon and Jade to support her. Once that is gone, she would be given nearly total free reign.

"If you want to stay in Surdana and set up the Order of the Flame within those walls, then we need to make it _very clear_ that we are a separate entity from those she controls. The Rift War began when Navaros tried to usurp control over us. I'd rather nip that problem in the bud before it begins again. Have her agree to shelter and feed our knights in return for our protection straight off. Don't just take advantage of her hospitality and then refuse to aid her or follow a request or order. She _would_ have cause to kick you out then, at the very least."

Rynn said nothing, quietly thinking over what her bonded had said.

It was true that she had avoided the subject of the Order with… well, everyone. The dragons had been discussed, oh yes, but the long-lost organization they had formed? Not a word. It was with an uneasy jolt that Rynn realized Arokh had a measure of truth to his words. They had no foundation for their goal.

When the dragons began arriving (and they _would_. That they had gone through so much and could receive nothing in turn was simply unthinkable), where would they stay? When they began taking partners, what would they do? It was well and good to say that they would bring Drakan back to order and peace, but how to go about doing that? And what if Myschala wanted more than protection for Surdana? Without her, Rynn had no idea of where they could get a populated, readily defendable base for their comrades. Ravenshold and the Andrellian Islands had possibilities if a few major problems could be taken care of, but for a starting point they were unthinkable.

Rynn blinked slowly, pieces of puzzles sliding together into her head with a comforting click. Arokh was right. She really had no idea what she was doing.

"I didn't say that," Arokh muttered.

Rynn frowned and focused on the dragon.

"What? What are you talking about?"

For a moment it was Arokh who was surprised, but then Rynn saw his large eyes close and felt more than heard his breath leave him in a sigh that ruffled her drying hair. Anyone who wasn't used to his flame would be worried about that, she supposed.

"About what I just said," Arokh began.

"Rynn, we've been bonded for a while now and there are some things I probably should have explained to you earlier."

That did it. When Arokh said something about the bond, Rynn knew she needed to shut up and _listen_. Important things came out in those conversations. Things like 'this pretty jewel you've grabbed is actually an intensely powerful magical artifact that will now rip out your soul and fuse it with mine' and 'if by some chance I die before you do, you will sincerely wish it had been the other way around'.

"The bond between human and dragon is deep, far beyond the level of spells that Jade has taught you. At its core, it is a spell to form a deep and lasting connection between two souls that only death itself can sever," Arokh lectured.

"I've known that much from the beginning, Arokh. What exactly is supposed to be new to me here?" Rynn asked.

Arokh actually grimaced.

"Yes, well," the red dragon rumbled ominously. "I believe it's past time you learned exactly what 'a deep and lasting connection' actually entails…."

**EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA**

_In my mind, Rynn is far too together to ever actually freak out at Arokh's explaination (which will come later) like this. Sge's gotten all of her crazy out already in this chapter. However, if you have an imagination, why not use it? _

Brother Reginald of the Eternal Word was carrying his lunch tray past the window when he stopped. Frowning, he turned his head to look out at the deep chasm that guarded the front of the monastery and the canyon that led the river out to the lakes of Surdana.

Coming up close behind him, Brother Tihocan stopped as well.

"Is something the matter?" Tihocan asked.

After a moment of contemplation, Brother Reginald shook his head and continued on towards his cell.

"Nothing, I suppose," he muttered. "It was simply that I thought I heard a woman screaming a moment ago."

"Oh my. I hope it was simply your imagination. A woman alone is easy prey for the wartocks around here."

"Oh, she wasn't in danger."

Brother Tihocan tilted his head curiously at Brother Reginald's retreating back.

"How could you tell?"

"Well, it sounded more like she was screaming out of sheer bloody rage."


	4. Koda 2

_**I don't own Drakan. Does anything else need to be said? On with the story!**_

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A Drakan fan fiction written by Random One-Shot

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_The waves were roaring in his ears, the waves and something else, something that made the island quake and sent the entire village trembling. 'It's down there. It's waking up,' he thought. And then, 'what?' The sky was dark, but the moons were bright and his feet kept carrying him further and further down the path. He knew the path, had walked it many times before, but it seemed different this time, more ominous._

_The white creature led and he followed. They went down, went deep, and the air became wet with spray. The crashing of the violent waves that he had known, always, gave way to _boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! _BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump. **_BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump. **_BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump. **_BOOM! _

_It was a cave, bigger than any other he had ever come across in his explorations as a child. A massive pile of stones lay in the center, curled in one big spiral that grew to be more than the size of his hut. _

"_Koda, he waits for you." _

"_Koda." _

"KODA!"

Koda woke up.

Krod had grabbed his arms and was pulling back on them. After blinking the sleep from his eyes, it was not hard to see why. Another step and he would have started down one of the many twisting, slippery paths that led from the cliffs to the caves beneath the island.

The strength in his legs gave out as he gazed down to the foaming white waves below and only Krod's arms kept him from hitting the ground.

"How…?" Koda began, but could not finish.

"You tell me, boy," Krod said irritably. "I woke up at night, thinking I'd heard the door open, and rise to find you missing. I go out, see you walking away at night with no coat, no cloak, no bloody _shoes_ even, when we're only a sneeze away from a storm and you don't turn around when I call you. Then I chase after you and find you ready to go down the cliffs in your sleep. What happened?"

"I had a weird dream," admitted Koda. "I've been having them for a while. There's something down in the Booming Deep that I have to find. I… I guess my body just decided to go with it tonight."

Krod frowned at him and started pulling him back towards the cabin. "I'm going to start dosing you with a sleeping tonic. No, don't give me that look. Either you sleep so deep that you don't dream at all or I tie your feet together each night. Take your pick."

The mention of Koda's feet made them begin throbbing. He had walked over the rough path during a cold autumn night with no shoes and they were letting him know it. Entering the cabin, with its banked fire and worn floorboards, was a relief. Koda sat himself down in the kitchen and waited for Krod to return with whatever ointment, salve or powder he dug up out of his workroom.

The medicine turned out to be a yellow, bitter smelling goop that stung fiercely when Krod began slathering it on the cuts. Koda let out little hissing sounds whenever Krod added on more.

"Don't be a baby," snapped Krod. "An infection would be worse. If you want to take your mind off of it, tell me about this dream of yours."

"Well, I start off in my room," began Koda. "There's something – it's white and I can never really see it. It just flickers in and out of the corner of my eye. Anyway, it's calling me out to the cliffs. It says there's someone waiting for me down in the caves."

"The Booming Deep?" Krod asked.

"Yeah," confirmed Koda. "Tonight was the furthest I ever got in the dream. Usually I wake up when I get into the caves, but tonight I kept going through the tunnels and I came to this massive chamber. I think it must have been a hundred feet high and even bigger around. There was this big platform in the middle, even bigger than our cabin. Then you woke me up and I just about pissed myself," Koda finished, laughing weakly.

"Humph," Krod said, and nothing more until he had finished picking the debris out of Koda's feet and slathering the ointment on.

When Koda's feet were both wrapped in fabric strips to serve as bandages and the ointment pot put away, Krod eased himself into the other chair and steepled his fingers beneath his wrinkled chin.

"Any idea what this thing wants you to find?" asked Krod.

"It's a person. I mean," Koda hastily corrected. "They're both people. The thing that's calling me and the thing it wants me to find. It said, 'he's waiting for you, Koda.' Definitely a he."

"Hm," Krod murmured.

Koda watched his master nervously, waiting for his advice or, far more likely, his condemnation for not mentioning this sooner. Their island was an isolated place, but evil spirits and the like were dangers the world over. There was every chance one of them had come to the island or simply woken from slumber in the caves below.

This was why Koda was beyond amazed, was flat out stupefied, when Krod opened his mouth and said, "Do you want to find out what's down there?"

'_What?'_

"Go into the Booming Deep? Myself?"

Krod rolled his eyes. "Stupid boy, I'd go with you. And a few men from the village, no doubt. But if you've been having the same dream for, how long now?"

"Almost three weeks."

"If you've been having the same dream for that long, every night, then I think it's safe to say that it isn't just your dinner playing with your mind at night. Something wants you to go down there. At worst, it's some devilry at work and we have to end it before it ends you. Or someone else, for that matter. If not, then we should see what is so important that someone feels the need to drive you over a cliff."

"But how?" asked Koda. "If it is a sorcerer or something like that, how do we deal it?"

"By killing it," Krod said simply. "Magic doesn't make a man immune to a spear through his heart, boy; I know I taught you better than that. A ghost can be harmed with silver or iron. A lich is purified by salt and fire. Nobody in this village is a professional fighter, I grant you, but we're a fishing and, I stress, _whaling_ village. Throwing heavy, sharp sticks at creatures that can kill us with a flick of their tails is this little community's way of life. I dare say we'll have all the help we should need."

And somehow Koda believed him.

"More importantly, do you think you could find this place outside of your dreams?" asked Krod. "I explored those caves in my youth, as I'm sure everyone on this island has, but I've never seen nor heard of a chamber like you've described. If it's there, it must be someplace no one has ever managed to reach."

Koda thought about that. The memory of his dream had faded already, aside from the general points of the thing: the white creature he could never truly see, the walk to the cliffs and to the caves below, the booming of the waves and something else, something that he should have known, but could not pin down. He thought about the endless nights of repetition, of the creature calling him again and again. He thought about waking only an hour earlier, only Krod's intervention saving him from an almost certain fall to his death.

"I think," said Koda slowly, "that when I start looking for it, that thing will help me. I think it's too desperate not to grab a chance like that."

"So, you're willing to go along with this then?" asked Krod.

The waves beneath him had looked so cold. His body would have been bashed to pieces on the rocks.

For what?

"Yes, I am," said Koda.


	5. Rynn and Arokh 3

_**I don't own Drakan. Does anything else need to be said? On with the story!**_

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Light A Candle

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A Drakan fan fiction written by Random One-Shot

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"We're going to fuse together?!"

"No!" Arokh looked annoyed that she was not getting the idea he was trying to pass on. "We've linked our souls together Rynn, there's going to be some bleeding over between us. It's… it's like Surdana's rivers. You have two separate springs that form two separate rivers. The rivers might meet, but the current does not flow back to bring water from one spring to the other. The springs remain as they were; only the rivers intertwine."

"So, I'm not going to start breathing fire, then?" If anything, Rynn sounded vaguely disappointed.

"No, you won't," Arokh confirmed. "We'll just… be much more aware of each other. We've had some of it from our very first night. I always know where you are, just as you always know where I am. Any hurt one of us feels is carried by the other, as well. It is that connection which will deepen."

"All right. By how much?"

"We've already begun hearing each other's thoughts. That will become commonplace, sooner or later. Eventually we will be able to see through each other's eyes, hear through each other's ears, and so on. If you wanted to, you could join me in my own body. I would not recommend it, though."

"Not enough room, is it?" Rynn asked, a gentle tone of mocking in her words.

"No; it's simply very dangerous. Having another mind crowding in on your own tends to slow you down."

"Right then. Anything else?"

Rynn was sitting with her legs curled over Arokh's right foreleg and leaning back against his shoulder. The breeze had picked up since their conversation began and she preferred to warm herself against the scales of the dragon than to be air dried by the cold wind. The water from her impromptu dunking had almost entirely dried up by then and only her hair remained damp. Loosened from its tie, it fell in a long red wave down Rynn's chest, nearly matching the bloody color of Arokh's scales.

Arokh himself was curled nearly into a hoop, with the tip of his tail an inch away from his snout. It was a far cry from the tense position he had adopted at the beginning of the conversation – on all fours and ready to toss Rynn back into the water should she prove unwilling to listen to him.

"Just one more thing," Arokh answered. "Your sense of magic. It only took you a few tries to gather the energy for a spell during your first lesson with Jade, yes? And then only a few tries again to twist it into a suitable form."

"Yes, she was rather surprised by that," Rynn recalled. She remembered being flat out _astonished_ herself. If she had known magic was that easy to learn, she would never have bothered picking up those crystallized spells when she had been chasing Delon.

"It comes from being bonded to me. Humans are creatures of the physical world – mundane at their basic level. Magic is not something you are born feeling. Anyone who wishes to learn it needs time and study to even begin to feel the energy around them. Dragons are different."

Rynn turned to stare at Arokh. He had stayed with his matter-of-fact tone until then, but now his voice was finally falling into the storyteller cadence she was familiar with.

"We are arcane creatures, born able to feel and twist the energy of this universe to our needs. We do it differently than humans, yes; you will not see a dragon hiding himself with invisibility or impaling his enemies with spikes from a distance like you do. What we do instead is use magic to change our essence, to change what we are."

"How do you mean?" Rynn asked.

"My fire breath, Rynn," Arokh said. "I'm a fire drake of the Elder Breed. You use magic to bend the world around you. I _am_ magic and so the world formed me. I hatched near a volcano and from my earliest memories, all I knew was heat. Thus, my magic is fire. Thus _I_ am fire, just as Mezzedril was storm and Werokh was ice."

"So, when you say you're arcane, you mean you _are_ magic?" Rynn asked her partner.

"Yes."

That one word made Rynn's thoughts whirl. Her lessons with Jade were few and far between, but the sorceress had managed to get a few basic concepts through to her. The first was that the use of magic was the manipulation of the world's natural energy. A sorcerer reached _out_ to gather power and never inward. Only necromancy delved in that direction and Rynn knew from personal experience how those people turned out.

The second was that no one had the ability to draw magic into themselves. Again, Rynn had seen the consequences of those who chose to ignore that rule. Navaros was a particularly stunning example. To Jade's knowledge, the one single example of both those rules being bent, if not broken, without immediate dire consequences was the soul magic that formed the bond between Arokh and Rynn, and even that was not without its price.

But Arokh said that he _was_ magic, that it was simply a part of him. It was one thing to see a dragon and know that he was not human; it was quite another to find that he freely broke a standing law of magic that should be ironclad by his very existence.

Rynn slowly ran her fingers through her hair to work out the knots as she likewise worked that thought through her mind. Arokh was something Jade's rules of sorcery said could not exist. But that was not right, was it? Arokh most certainly did exist, had existed for centuries, and if he was not a human, why should a human's laws of magic apply to him? He had taken foreign energy into himself easily enough, she knew. Every dragon he defeated left a part of themselves behind and Arokh absorbed it without so much as a whimper. He turned their power into his own, though it always seemed to fade after a few days.

"What is it that you do with those… energy orbs or whatever they are that appear with every dragon you defeat?" Rynn asked, suddenly curious to know.

"Those are fragments of my enemies, Rynn; just as much a part of them as the bodies they leave behind. If any should ever succeed in slaying me, they would be able to take my power for their own, if only for a time. When a dragon dies, the power in them returns to the world they took it from and sometimes, if their opponent is quick enough, that essence can be devoured and taken. Such was what I did with our enemies."

An ugly thought suddenly occurred to Rynn and she voiced it before thinking of whether or not she wished to truly hear the answer.

"Arokh, you aren't eating their _souls_?!"

"_No_!"

Arokh's reply was just short of a roar and his face was right in front of Rynn's before she could blink.

"I take their power; _never_ would I take their minds, their consciousness! That goes to the next world where it belongs! Necromancy is a vile art and one I have never wished to learn!" Arokh snarled.

The sight of dagger-like teeth flashing in front of her face gave Rynn a pause, but no fear. She _could_ feel Arokh now. He was a big knot of rage in the back of her head, but there was none of the intent she somehow knew would be there if he really had meant harm.

"All right, all right, I apologize, I do," Rynn hastily assured him. Still growling, Arokh pulled his head back a pace, far enough to let Rynn see more than just his mouth.

"You said essence and part of them, and I simply thought –"

"You did no thinking at all, or you would have realized I would never resort to such disgusting means," Arokh snapped. He withdrew completely after that and lay his head back down on the grass. His eyes closed. The words that issued from his mouth next were subdued.

"I tire of this conversation. You have the important things now; let us speak of something else."

Rynn snorted. "Hypocrite. You were the one who insisted on it. Threw me into a lake and everything, too."

"And it needed to be done," Arokh retorted.

"Throwing me into a lake?"

"You stank. We've been over this."

There was silence between them for a long moment. Small birds chirped from a lone tree some distance away and Rynn realized she could not remember the last time she had simply stopped to enjoy that sound. It was the same with the valley they lay in. It was vibrant with green life and clear running water, the sort of place that Rynn would have made an afternoon of enjoying, but until that moment she had looked on it only as another potential battlefield.

'_What is happening to me,'_ she wondered.

"Why do you think the dragons haven't arrived yet?" Rynn finally asked.

"I do not know," Arokh said simply. "So many of us died during the Dark Wars, but there were still at least a hundred left by the end. I remember seeing them flying, swimming, walking, here and there before I had enough strength to fly back to my cave. They were struggling to put order back into the chaos that the war's end left. Some were bonded. Some were not. But they were there."

"So, where are they now?" Rynn mused aloud.

"And better yet, why do they not answer the call of Mala-Shae?" Arokh finished.

Words failed them again, but not for long. Rynn knew what she was going to say next before Arokh had finished speaking. There was a long moment where the birds chirped and the water babbled. Rynn closed her eyes and let it flow over her. The sounds of peace, sounds she had not heard for so long, sounds she might never hear again.

"Do you want to go look for them?" Rynn finally asked.

"I begin to think we must," Arokh replied. "It has been weeks and we have had no sign, whether from the spirit dragons or my own brethren. I want to know why, Rynn."

"Hm, another journey then," Rynn said. "I'll have to sharpen Mournbringer."

"And let our allies know," Arokh reminded her. "Consider this a test. Let's see how Myschala and Dehrimon react to our leaving their fair city."

"I think I'd better handle that," Rynn said. "You tend to get a bit… _short_ with people when you get angry."

"And you don't?" Arokh retorted. Rynn felt his muscles flex beneath her and jumped off as his foreleg shifted. Several tons of dragon rose smoothly onto four legs and shook to loosen its joints. Arokh's wings threw a shadow over Rynn briefly as they rose and then folded back to rest neatly at Arokh's side.

"Let's head back and get this trip started," Arokh sighed. "Oh, and Rynn?"

"Yes?"

"You might want to put your clothes back on first."


	6. Koda 3

_**I don't own Drakan. Does anything else need to be said? On with the story!**_

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Light A Candle

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A Drakan fan fiction written by Random One-Shot

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In the end, six men had agreed to join Koda and Krod in their exploration of the caves. All brought the heavy whaling harpoons used to pierce the thick layer of blubber that protected a whale's vulnerable insides, as well as containers of sea-salt to ward off spirits. Torches dipped in oil burned brightly on every other hand. The fire would also prove useful if the undead lurked below. Only Krod had any silver to bring, the item in question being a single knife from some long ago lord's dining set that Krod had picked up somewhere in his long life. It looked pathetically useless in the daylight, but Koda knew it was the metal that was important and not the shape or edge it held.

It still seemed strange that they were actually doing this; going down into the Booming Deep to find a dream creature and see where it led them. Well, to see where it led Koda. And also to kill it, should the need arise.

Even with what Krod had told him the night before, Koda was slightly amazed at how easily the villagers had agreed to the proposal. The only thing they seemed upset about was that Koda had waited so long to come to them. In hindsight, the boy agreed with them. It was very obvious that he had not been having just ordinary dreams. The one thing he had said in his defense was that the island had never come under attack from a sorcerer or the like before, and it simply had not occurred to him that it might be the case with him.

None of them seemed to still be holding a grudge, at least. As soon as Krod finished gathering the few jars of blasting powder he'd managed to create, they set off. The early winter sunlight was weak, but it was still better by far than going down at night. The power of the sun was painful to the evil things of the world and Koda could not imagine trying this without it.

'_Although we still aren't sure what we're going to find, if anything,'_ Koda told himself.

No one in the village had ever heard of something like what he had calling out to him. The only thing that came close was an angry ghost, but no one had died recently and it wasn't trying to hurt him as far as Koda could tell. It just wanted him to go down into the caves. It could be some kind of water sprite for all anyone knew.

Reaching the path to the cliffs was the easy part. After that, they had to go slower. The closest path to the caves was a natural trail formed along the edge of the cliffs. This far up above the ocean, the path was not wet, but it was still very steep. At some sections, Koda found himself forced to slowly inch down using his hands to grab the side of the cliff for support. Sometimes it vanished entirely and Koda had to climb like a spider across the rock to the next section he could stand on. It did level out towards the bottom, but by then the steepness had been exchanged for the ocean spray from the waves that crashed against the rocks. Looking back on his childhood, Koda was amazed he had not fallen and died during his explorations of the caves. Indeed, given how many children enjoyed sneaking away to play down there, it was almost miraculous that no one had slipped in over a decade.

Krod was the second to last one to arrive. All of the men from the village were still in middle age or younger, but Krod had needed help to get down to the caves and was forced to move between two others, each ready to grab him in case he slipped. By the time he reached the entrance to the caves, he was ready to kill a dragon as long as something suffered for what he had been through.

"So, where's your dream friend telling you to go, boy? Well? I'd like to know what we came here for," Krod snapped.

Koda considered reminding his master that it had been his idea to make the trip down to the Booming Deep, but decided silence was wiser. As to the question of where to go next….

Koda paused and looked around.

He remembered the first half of his dream clearly. The soft voice, the flickers of white that he could never really focus his vision on, and the beating sound that was not from the waves. Then down the path, always following the voice, following the white flashes in the corners of his eyes, farther and deeper, farther and deeper….

But after that?

The tunnels all faded into a confused jumble of stone and darkness. He needed the white creature to show him the way or he would be wandering for a long time.

"This way for now," Koda said. "Light the torches."

Even with the torches, it was difficult to see. Much of what Koda knew of the tunnels had come from playing with the other children back when he still lived with his not yet dead parents at the lower end of the island. Of this part of the tunnels, he had only ever entered once when he first came to live with Krod. He had not brought a torch and turned around before long.

They had not gone very far in before the sound of seagulls and wind faded away. All that was left was the boom-boom-boom of the waves rolling in. Koda, listening closely for the soft voice to tell him anything, heard only the men muttering whenever one of them stumbled. This happened quite often, as the ground was rocky, pitted and, on many occasions, very narrow. The tunnel was almost entirely a waterway, with a massive flow of seawater rushing into the island to their left. The tunnel was massive, almost as high as the biggest tree of the forest, and Koda wondered how it had formed. It did not look like something a quake or water could cause.

They wandered for a time, Krod marking their passage with some green liquid that glowed in the darkness. The tunnel branched only a few times, and Koda always chose the path that looked larger. There was no logical reason for this, just a desire to have more room.

But they wandered for hours and never saw a thing.

Finally, Krod said, "Enough." Daylight was leaving fast and if they wanted to make the climb back up to the island before dark, they would need to leave soon. Following the green markers back to the cave opening took almost an hour by itself. By the time they emerged, aching and scratched, back up onto the grassy top of the island, the sun was only a finger width from touching the ocean.

The men said goodbye, looking either relieved or annoyed in turn, and left Koda and Krod to walk back to their cabin.

"Don't look so glum, boy," Krod said. "No sign of trouble might mean there is no trouble. I am a cynic by nature and doubt that very much, but it could be. And if not, then maybe we scared whatever it was off just with our noise and light."

Koda stared at his master in mild shock. "You don't believe either, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Oh, all right."

"The better question is, why didn't whatever it was come out? We had you right there; it was like a worm on a string. Why didn't it talk to you? It seems happy to do so in your dreams."

"Maybe it only comes out at night? We could try again later."

"Ha! No, stupid boy. Only a madman would make that trip at night."

Koda slept and dreamed, dreamed and followed the white thing.

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><p><em>The waves were roaring in his ears, the waves and something else, something that made the island quake and sent the entire village trembling. 'It's down there. It's waking up,' he thought. And then, 'what?' The sky was dark, but the moons were bright and his feet kept carrying him further and further down the path. He knew the path, had walked it many times before, but it seemed different this time, more ominous.<em>

_The white creature led and he followed. They went down, went deep, and the air became wet with spray. The crashing of the violent waves that he had known, always, gave way to _boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! _BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump. **_BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump. **_BOOM! _**Ba-dump.** _BOOM! _**Ba-dump. **_BOOM! _

"_Koda, he waits for you." _

_And the frail, drifting white shape took him through the tunnels, deeper than he had ever gone. He could recognize the path that he had taken with the villagers earlier, then another path that they had never gone down. Cracks in the stone, rocks fallen from the ceiling, water rushing everywhere over his feet. No one in their right mind would take this path. Why was he? _

"_Koda, he waits for you." _

_Ah yes, that. _

_Through the dark tunnels, across cold water and he was there, in the cavern that had to surely be beneath half the island. It was so big, bigger than anything he had ever imagined could be beneath his feet. The small mountain of stone rose in front of him and Koda followed the white shape up to the top, slipping and stumbling on the slippery, steep rock. Then, there he was, at the top. There was an altar with a pretty blue jewel floating in the center of three stone claws, but nothing else. There was no one else. _

"_Where is he?" Koda asked, speaking for the first time in this bizarre dream. He knew it was a dream now, just as he knew that he might be sleepily stumbling towards the cliffs again if Krod had not been vigilant about keeping an eye on him. "Where is he? I see no one." _

_And then it was there, right _there_, in front of him. It had a face with sharp teeth, long whiskers on each side of its jaws and sad yellow eyes. Koda had seen a picture once, when he was very small, of the old knights who had guarded the world with fire and steel. He had seen the things they joined forces with._

"_He waits for you, Koda, as so many others wait," the dragon said. "The world needs him, but he needs you. Wake Bahari and make the oath." _

_Then they were outside again, high above the island. Koda could see dark forms in the water, drawing close to the shore. Bright points of fire shot up from the boats and landed on the houses dotting the shoreline. Screaming monsters with sharp killing tools leapt from the beaching boats and charged towards the village. _

"_WAKE UP!" _

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><p>"Wake up, wake up stupid boy!"<p>

Koda sat upright so fast his head spun before he noticed who was shaking him awake. It was Krod. Koda fell back into his bed, gasping for air as his heart raced. His feet were still bound to the board at the foot of his bed. He had not wandered off this night.

"Pack your things," Krod was saying as he untied Koda's feet. "Anything warm you have to wear, any food we have on hand and anything you can use to bash heads."

"Why?" Koda asked, still half asleep.

"Because the whole village is on fire, stupid boy, and I doubt it would have spread so quickly if someone wasn't making it happen. Now move!"


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